


The Fog in Fuuto

by ToadstoolTea



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double), Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Transplant, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Recast, Community: badbadbathhouse, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToadstoolTea/pseuds/ToadstoolTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naoto Shirogane travels to the city to take care of some family property, only to find a strange pair of squatters claiming to do detectivework. She strikes a deal with them in hopes of discovering their connection to the strange happenings of Fuuto and more importantly, her mother's disappearance.</p><p>AU with the <em>Persona 4</em> characters in the <em>Kamen Rider W</em> universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> deanoning to work on this because I doubt op is around anymore

_"You ever feel like nothing's right?"_

The girl doesn't feel quite comfortable around him yet, not enough to let it all out and attempt one of those angry foreign rock songs, or the few disillusioned raps that found their way into the pages of the karaoke catalog. So she keys in the only current pop song she knows. It's some drivel about true love and destiny by that local idol Risette.

And she _sang_. Microphone in one hand, she proceeded with the ornate choreography of the music video she'd seen dozens of times with her free arm. She tosses her hair over her shoulders, and shakes her hips. She even grins just like Risette does in the commercials.

Her partner only stares, almost glossy-eyed, taking in her routine with the vigor of a picky toddler presented with broccoli.

And the girl knows that the man doesn't care for her performance, but at the moment, it's enough for the both of them.

......

"Fuck."

An uncharacteristic swear escapes Naoto Shirogane's lips as she heaves herself off the ground.

She bites her lip and assesses the damage. Luckily, even after being chased off the road, both she and her bike landed in the grassy median between the street and the sidewalk. She only has a few bruises to show for the tumble. It is her motorcycle that concerns her.

She mounts the bike again and tries to rev it up, only answered by a hollow turning; no ignition.

"Fuck," she repeats, "not _now_." Another turn, and still nothing. With a grunt, she gets off of her vehicle and considers her next course of action.

But a noise breaks her concentration before it can begin. Naoto looks up only to see the golden glow of the foggy Fuuto streets. There were sirens in the background. Something was happening, somewhere... No doubt concerning that strange man in the two-tone armor, the man that just nearly took her out. Her prime suspect.

_"A proper detective knows when to think, and when to act."_

Glancing at her bike one last time, Naoto dashes off into the fog.

......

"You ever feel like nothing's right," the girl repeats. "Like, fate or whatever got everything wrong. Even basic stuff. When you were born. Your family. _Everything_."

For the first time, she looks to her partner for the evening -- a slim man in a business suit. Shaggy hair, and the slight appearance of bags under his tired, but kind eyes. A touch of a smile that tilts a bit to the left. He offers a nod, encouraging her to continue.

And before she knows it, she's sitting at his side, her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

"I've tried before... fighting this. Trying to change, trying to run away from all this. Something goes wrong every single time..." She's twisting her hands in her lap now. "But people tell me that I'm just going through a phase... that I need to grow up. Learn to accept things. It pisses me off so much... It..."

She looks up to the man, and his tired, worn face. Despite his quiet, self-effacing demeanor, there's something there. Something that she doesn't have, but maybe it's something she needs. It has to be, she decides, as she stares into his eyes.

"Come with me," is all he has to say.

She places her hand on his, and the next thing she knows, the pair is rushing out of room.

......

It takes nearly a dozen blocks for Naoto to spot her target again; the mysterious man in the scarf and the multicolored armor, soaring through the city on his otherworldly bike. He rides into the crook between a bar and a motel, and suddenly the roar of his bike goes silent.

Instinctively, Naoto withdraws her pistol from its holster and begins nearing the alleyway, her steps steady despite the uncertainties flying through her head. She's unsure if the mystery man is a man at all; for all she knows that urban legend might actually be an extraterrestrial, or robot. Perhaps her bullet will do nothing to slow the thing. What would she do then? What if--

Just as she's at the mouth of the ally, the revving of the suspect's bike begins again. Gun poised, Naoto turns and points her dark at--

Darkness.

Suddenly she's enveloped by darkness, darkness unlike anything she's experienced before. A cold, thick, tactile darkness both squeezing her like a vice and making her insides feel emptier than her loneliest nights. Darkness like a scream. Darkness like all the spaces inside of her -- all the ugliness and lack of polish and gaps in logic --

 _"Hey!"_ calls a voice in the distance. Actually, it is _two_ simultaneous voices; two people talking as one.

It's a curiosity she can only notice because the creature's grip on her has loosened, and Naoto can finally breathe. Light peeps into the periphery of her vision, finally. With something between a shudder and a chuckle, the... _shadow_ bounces off into the fog and the streets and the mysterious man loops around to follow it.

Both creatures have disappeared into the distance before Naoto notices that she crouching on the ground, her white-knuckled deathgrip on her gun, and how violently she is still shivering.

......

The girl and the man in the suit are racing down the streets, dangerously fast, considering the sheer thickness of the fog and how low their visibility is. It's a small miracle that no vehicle shows up to run the pair off the street, but perhaps, that's a part of the excitement.

The girl, she likes the danger.

Her mind is racing almost faster than her feet, a slideshow of images flashing through her head. She and the man halting a taxi. She and the man rushing to catch the last bus of the night out of the terminal. Or maybe even running all the way to the edge of town, and boarding one of those locomotives headed out to the countryside...

Regardless of what happens, she's already decided. Whatever was happening that night... _this is her escape._

It doesn't hit her until finally they stop and she finds herself in a dark alley, backing toward a chain fence and her companion is looming before her with a terrifying grin. But it doesn't make sense, why did they run so far when the karaoke parlor was next door to a motel? Her heart begins to race.

The man's all back-lit, a shadowy figure against the pinkish-yellow glow of the night fog. And for a girl that's been suspect places with strange men before, for a girl that has even _accepted_ a few of those propositions, she's afraid.

This is not the kind of danger she anticipated.

The man raises his hands, and they become two huge nightmarish claws that stretch the width of the alleyway. With every step the man takes, the darker the man's figure becomes. Darker and darker, until it is even darker than the shadows of the buildings and he envelopes everything, including her and--

And she screams.

......

Naoto has made her way to her feet again. She does not know how long it has taken to calm herself down, but somehow, she _is_ calm, and creeping deeper into the alley.

It is well-lit so there is no question; there is nothing left to shoot, but her grip on her pistol tightens again. Her hands are numb and turning blue in the time it takes for her to take three paces, and for her boots to _plop_ in something on the ground. Naoto shudders, and looks down.

At her feet is a black puddle, surrounding the head of a young woman like a thick, dark halo. It soaks into her long, wavy locks and strains the pastel jacket she's wearing over a strapless dress.

Completely forgetting the man in the two-tone armor, Naoto Shirogane studies the scene, over and over and over. Though she has seen them countless times in books and in articles, she has never seen a dead body in person. She has never smelled the thick, heavy scent of coagulating blood, never tried to make sense of the twisted limbs of a woman -- _girl_ \-- in an alley of the town's red light district.

Never has she looked into lifeless eyes before.

Maybe it is a trick of the light, of the dingy, flickering streetlamp overhead, but she almost swears that the girl's eyes are glowing yellow in the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Three Days Earlier.**

_"Good morning, Fuuto!"_

Naoto Shirogane scanned over her map, trying to figure out the best route for her destination, and fulfill her curiosity about the city that she'd heard so much about, but never set foot in.

_"--to tune in for the_ Risette Says Hour, _Thursdays at fiiii--"_

Naoto clicked off her radio, finally at her wit's end with pop music and urban legends and sing-song DJs. If she was to get a feel for Fuuto, she would have to try other means. Peering over her map, she spotted the lofty sign of a Moel service station in the distance.

A few minutes later, she was pulling into the gas station, noting how eerily empty the place was. According to her map, she was on the outskirts of one of the biggest cities in the prefecture, along several major highways. 

Dismounting her bike, she scoped out the scenery as she waited for the only attendant in sight to jog up to her vehicle. Mountains to the east, the sea to the west, and south: the metropolis of Fuuto. Despite being close to noon, the sky was overcast and a light fog seemed to hang over the city. The skyline looked absurd, only a dark blue silhouette of the buildings against a slightly yellow backdrop. It reminded her of the backdrop of some twisted storybook.

"Welcome to Moel!" went the attendant, all too chipper. At least her first contact with a Fuuto citizen wasn't as dreary as the surroundings. 

It was almost unsetting how bright he was, but the last thing Naoto wanted to complain about was good service. She nodded to the man, and asked, "can you fill it up?"

"Yes ma'am!"

And the attendant went to work.

"You must be an out-of-towner." Naoto nearly jumped in surprise, when she remembered the town map she had sticking out of her coat pocket. "Haven't had as many people coming for business and the like lately."

Looking for something?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted.

"It seems there are always more questions than answers, doesn't it?"

For an instant, their fingers touched, and a shock coursed through Naoto's body. It took her a second to realize that it wasn't static, it was _cold_ , a sheer chill cut to her bones. A few terrifying seconds -- it had to be seconds, but it felt like _hours_ \-- passed before she was able to move again.

"Ah... I'm sorry. It's been so chilly recently... the weather's been strange, you see." Then the station attendant grinned. It wasn't just formality, the way his eyes crinkled in the corner hint at the sincerity of his smile. It was such a warm smile, that Naoto nearly forgot about the cold that just crept into her body.

Weatherwise, she expected Fuuto to be warmer than Inaba. Further to the south, and closer to the sea, there was every reason for the metropolitan area to be warmer than her mountainside hometown.

A faint fog lingered over the road, and surprisingly few people were on the streets for it being a big city. Peculiar, indeed.

Naoto shivered.

......

Despite the attendant's eccentricities, his directions turned out to be perfect. Unfortunately, the description of the property she'd been toting was far less accurate. She parked before an old building labeled _SHIROGANE ACTIVITY CENTER_ or something like it. The characters in her family name were miserably faded and only half of the word "center" was still visible.

Naoto checked the address a final time before pocketing it, her fingers brushing over the piece tucked away in her holster, hidden under her jacket. For some reason, the feel of the cool metal against her fingers made Naoto think back to the gas station attendant, and she shivered again.

Regaining her composure, she withdrew the folded envelope from a flap in her jacket, containing the deed and the briefest of letters from the previous owner.

_Dear Naoto,_ she could hear it being read in her mind. _Due to circumstances, I am to be away, so I am leaving the property in Fuuto in your care. May you use it well. Regards, Makoto Shirogane._

"She couldn't even sign it _mom_ ," Naoto said flatly, quietly, with only the fog to hear. Perhaps some years ago, that would be an observation that pained her, at least _bothered_ her. But the envelope filled with obligation instead of affections was typical of her mother. 

With that, she tipped the envelope and caught a single key that fell into her palm. With a deep breath, she walked toward the center's front door. 

The door creaked like some dying animal. The inside was a mess. A few billiard tables and arcade machines dotted a large in the front, with what appeared to be an office further back. All of the furniture and tables were covered in sheets of plastic. Dust hung in the air, as if it was the fog's way of permeating the indoors.

The only things that weren't covered in dust were a few items on a desk in the tucked in the back corner of the building. An old French press that was sparkling. A mechanical typewriter with Latin letters on the keys. A box of playing cards, the pair of jokers set aside. Yet the cards looked much more ornate than any standard playing card she'd seen before... the art almost reminded her of a tarot card she'd seen once.

In any case, it was a strange assortment of items, considering that she lived in a decade when coffeeshops, laptops, and video games were in fashion. After looking about her one last time, Naoto walked to the desk to inspect its and a single playing card. A few paces and she was able to discern that it _was_ a tarot card: _The Fool_.

Footsteps reverberated against the wooden floors, and before Naoto realized, she'd swapped the card for her pistol, and was facing a silhouette obscured by the dust and darkness.

"Who's there?" she commanded, taking a step toward the intruder.

A few paces forward and Naoto could discern the figure a tall man. His hand was at his waist, where she saw the glint what could have been a firearm in the dim light. Her gaze on the intruder intensified, as well as her grip on her own weapon.

"Whoa," cooed the man. "Easy there."

At that, Naoto released the gun's safety. _Emotions. Right._

"Seta Souji."

Though she'd never seen the man, she'd heard his name all too often during the phone calls with her mother: _"...anything at all; I'll send it -- yes, Souji-kun, that's fine -- it's just that this case is bigger than we thought, but I promise that I'll do everything I can to return for your birthday..."_

The man nodded. "And you must be... the Boss's daughter?"

"Correct," replied Naoto. She returned the gun to its holster, relieved she wouldn't have to shoot someone before her morning coffee.

At ease, she was able to observe the man more carefully. He was tall, really tall. He also had piercing eyes flashing with intelligence. Dressed like he stepped right out of forty's film, perhaps he was a bit out of touch. Then again, anyone with such a relationship with the fourth Detective Shirogane had to possess some... peculiarities.

"I'm also the new owner of this property. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I've been helping the Boss -- I mean, Shirogane-san -- here for years. I assumed that I would watch over the business while Shirogane-san is away."

"Assumed?"

The man pressed his lips together. "That was presumptuous of me, I will admit..."

Naoto was about to agree with Seta when something in her peripheral vision caught her eye.

A white fedora.

Hanging on a hook on a door off to the side was a white fedora, one that she had seen many times before. How fitting, she thought, for her mother's fedora to be on a door. Closing her eyes, she could remember such a scene like it was yesterday. The glimpse she'd catch of the figure rushing out the front door -- undoubtedly, to pursue the newest case. Undoubtedly, away from her.

Naoto opened her eyes, and saw the door handle.

_"Please,"_ called the man from behind. "You don't want to open that."

"As I said, this is my property. I may enter if I please."

"You don't understand..."

"What's there to understand?" If nothing else, she was content to act contrary to the presumptuous trespasser and wipe that smug grin off of his face.

Naoto turned the handle, and opened the door.

Immediately, she was hit by a wall of sound, so loud she had to back up a few paces, like she was walking against a gale.

The room was large; bigger than the front of the business, it seemed. The floor was littered with gadgets she couldn't identify, and the far wall was lined with television sets. Turned to news broadcasts, movies, variety shows; and of the characters she could recognize, Russian, Chinese, and English on the screens she could focus on. There had to be at least two dozens, all broadcasting different channels, different programs, in different languages.

Before them all sat a boy.

Huddled on a folding chair, he rocked from side to side, eyes darting from one screen to the next. Underneath clothes with the price tags still attached, she could see that he was nothing but angles, shaggy hair, and those nervous, jumpy eyes.

_Abduction? Isolation? Torture?_

She looked back to Seta, who had an exasperated -- but not guilty -- look on his face. Not sure what to make of that, she turned her attention back to the boy, 

"Are you alright?"

He didn't answer. That's when Naoto noticed the oversized pair of headphones the boy was wearing; she followed the cord expecting to see it connected to one of those mp3 players that was so popular these days, the cord just dangled beside the boy, hanging in the air.

_Something wasn't right._ He _wasn't right._

She grabbed the boy by the shoulder, hoping to get him out of his trance, but something else happened.

Each and every single one of the television screens went dark. 

Naoto looked around, for some kind of switch or remote or _something_ , but all she saw were the boy's large eyes, full of confusion and uncertainty and maybe even fear. But before Naoto was able to say another word, the boy had disappeared. She looked around before she saw that he'd dashed at an almost unnatural speed to hide behind Seta.

Naoto shook her head; whatever what up with the television wasn't urgent. What was important was the boy's apparent... _Stockholm?_ "Child abduction is a felony, I'd have you know."

Again, Naoto's hand veered to her holster, and Souji Seta reached for something at his waist, under his vest. Naoto could only see that glint again, but she stared the man down all the same, until both of them stood down simultaneously.

Souji pat the brunette on the shoulder, 

"Yousuke's about the same age as me. I _think_."

"You think."

"Yeah."

It was then the boy peered from behind Seta at Naoto, hesitantly pointing. "Y-Y-You're Shirogane-san's..."

This boy knew her mother as well? The revelation was enough to get Naoto to drop her defenses, and just stare at the terrified boy clinging to the monochrome protege. She'd heard all about Souji Seta, but never about this kid -- _Yousuke._ It was all too much, and the more she found out, the more she was beginning to think that perhaps, there was something more than simple detectivework going on here.

Seta must have pinned her doubts, because the next thing he did was held both his hands up in surrender.

"My apologies, Shirogane-san. Just give me a few minutes, and I promise I'll explain all I can."

......

A few minutes later they were all gathered around a dusty table in the front, Naoto wondering if she should threaten with her gun or her cell phone.

"You have five minutes to tell me why I should contact the authorities right now; for trespassing at the very least. Possibly for child abduction and theft as well." Naoto gestured to the heavy metal door.

"Like I said before, I believe we're the same age. And he's there on his own. That equipment has been in that room the entire time. Everything here belonged to your mother."

"He's telling the truth. I'm okay down there, _hahaha!_ " Yousuke piped in, banging on the table. If Naoto had learned anything about the boy -- _young man?_ \-- in the last few minutes, it was that he was a bad liar.

Souji placed a mug in front of Naoto, filled with something the same color and consistency of _matcha_ green tea. "I thought that you were making coffee."

"This _is_ coffee."

Naoto sighed. Souji Seta was certainly her mother's protege, if his coffee making skills were so _superlative_. Naoto stared into the cup of strange liquid, and at her reflection looking back up at her. It was beginning to get to her, how close he seemed to be to the woman she barely knew. How unapologetic he seemed about it all.

How _shady_ he was. 

She looked up, to see Seta, nonchalantly sipping on the coffee, looking over his own mug back at her. "So where is my mother?"

The tension of the room shoot up, suddenly, everything seemed to move as slowly as the dust drifting in the air. Seta lowered his mug and stared off, while Yousuke replaced his headphones and slid down in his chair. Naoto could feel her heart beat so hard her head was beginning to hurt, and she started to tremble like Yousuke had been a few minutes prior.

In the back of her mind she could only think, _why do I care so much?_

"I don't know exactly," finally answered Seta, before taking another sip of his drink.

Naoto finally leaned back in her chair, almost smiling at how appropriate that answer was... for _both_ of her questions. But before she could ask anything else, there was a creaking, of that front door no doubt, and the trio turned to see a what _certainly_ was a teenager walk into the room. Much like Naoto did, he looked over the disarray of the place before noticing that he wasn't alone.

"You need something?" Seta called.

The boy bowed slightly before he began. "Naoki Konishi. I heard that this is detective agency?"

_Seta wasn't about to take a case right now, was he?_

"You're _not_ \--" Naoto started, standing up so fast that her chair topped on the ground and stealing the attention of Yousuke and the newcomer. But Seta placed his mug on the table and held up a hand, again seeming like he could read Naoto's thoughts.

"I'm sorry Naoto-san. I understand your concern, but I made a promise to your mother to take care of things while she's away."

And suddenly, Naoto heard that voice echo through her head, gloating about her prized protege like she always did when she called: _"He's smart. And deathly loyal... I just want to give him the chance that he might not have otherwise."_

And then the woman realized; _she wanted to see._ The detectivework of the young man that _stole_ her mother from him. The detectivework of the young man whom her mother had complete faith in.

Naoto grit her teeth, staring Seta down before finally submitting; " _only one case_."

"We only work on one at a time."

The man in the gray broke out into a large grin, one so disarming that Naoto felt her heart skip a beat. She could only stare at Seta as he approached the boy standing in the doorway. And for the second time that afternoon, Naoto was reminded of the mysterious gas station attendant, save for one small detail.

Souji Seta did not smile with his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I agonized over which should be Shoutarou or Phillip, but in the end, Yousuke must always be second banana. Hopefully I can make this work. There will be more action in the next chapter!


End file.
